Slipped Through Her Fingers
by Dumble
Summary: At Ron's funeral, Hermione realizes how much she regrets having left Harry.


  
**Slipped Through Her Fingers**   
by Dumble   
  


_Disclaimer: The Harry Potter characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and the song "For Nancy" (the lyrics used in this story) belong to Pete Yorn._   


_And when you said I could not stay with you_   
_That's not the way you would have wanted to be_   
_Convince yourself that everything is alright_   
_'Cos it already is_   
  


Hermione trudged through the weeds and dead grass, making her way to the cemetery. She felt numb. She couldn't cry, couldn't remember the memories she had with him, couldn't worry or think at all. She was just...there. Suddenly, she tripped over a fallen branch she hadn't noticed. She fell down, flinging out her hands to keep herself from hitting the ground and getting her nice clothes dirty. As she attempted to get up again, a hand appeared in front of her. She took it and let the person help her up. Once she had finished dusting herself off, she looked up. She gasped when she recognized the handsome face. The bright green eyes, the wild black hair, the scar... 

"Harry! Ohmigosh!" They hugged each other. 

"Hello, Hermione. Long time no see, eh?" He watched her as her expression slowly changed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He wanted to hear what she had to say. Hermione was sure of it, and it made her nervous. She still remembered the most horrible phonecall she had ever made to anyone in her life. It was the phonecall where she had 'dumped' Harry, because she couldn't stand a long distance relationship. Harry was a famous Quidditch player, and his team traveled a lot. He barely had time for her, too, and that was another main reason that the whole thing couldn't work out. But then...it _could've_ worked out. Hermione figured that she was too selfish back then, and therefore didn't wish to be patient enough to be Harry Potter's girlfriend. Now, she wasn't so sure that she had made the right choice. 

"I, er..um...you're looking well," Hermione stuttered, not brave enough to look Harry in the eye. He shrugged. 

"Don't start on all of that, Herm, you don't have to." He took her hand. She took a deep breath and bit her lip. The familiar warm, tender feeling when they touched returned to her quickly. She remembered that feeling, from only half a year ago. When she and Harry had been together. 

They walked in silence to the graveyard. Once they reached the cemetery where many people stood, they stopped. Hermione scanned the area, searching for the Weasley family. Sure enough, a big group of red-headed people were standing nearby. Harry and Hermione made their way over to them. 

"Harry! Hermione! Oh, dear! You came!" Mrs. Weasley threw her arms around them both at the same time, squeezing them so hard she nearly suffocated them. 

"Of course we came, Mrs. Weasley," Harry replied once he could breathe again. Mrs. Weasley paused for a moment, then began to brawl. An older Ginny Weasley went over to her mother and handed her a handkerchief. Hermione was amazed out how much the whole family had changed. She hadn't talked to these wizards in a while, because of her long trip to Australia. Ginny was taller, with much shorter hair that was only up to her chin. She had a very neat, modern look about her. The twins looked the same as they always had, though now they both had wrinkles near their eyes. The type of wrinkles people got from laughing, when their eyes crinkled. It was surprising to see them wearing all black, because usually they seemed more cheerful. Percy, Bill, and Charlie were all grown men and were standing near Mr. Weasley, who had grown a little grey beard with red hairs here and there. Hermione felt like crying. The Weasley family, who always were so pleasant and happy, were now all dark...sad, depressed, miserable. She hated to see them like that. 

After they had talked to the Weasleys, Harry and Hermione backed off a bit and stood a bit farther away, still holding hands. Hermione felt numb.   


_Don't sell your heart and break just anyone_   
_I want to run with you through moorland fields_   
_Convince yourself that everything is alright_   
_'Cos it already is_   
_'Cos it already is_   


Hermione gulped. She didn't want to look inside. There was no way she was looking inside. No way. 

Yet she couldn't help but take a peek...and what she saw when she peered down frightened her. 

He was a zombie. Or at least, it appeared so. He was so pale...couldn't they have put more makeup on him? It was awful. He was dead. Too dead. He was wearing a neat suit, and his hair was swept back. This wasn't Ron Weasley. It couldn't be. Hermione frantically turned to Harry and blinked at him, as if he could give her the answer. The answer to what? She didn't know. But what she did know was that when she had whirled around to face him, she could have sworn he was weeping. Not like Mrs. Weasley was, but in more of a quiet way. Now there were tears welling up in her eyes, and she was crying too. Everyone crying. Crying over Ron Weasley. Only twenty-one years old when he died. 

Only there was still one question. "Harry, how did Ron die?" 

Harry wiped his eyes quickly. Hermione gawked at him, almost forgetting everything. He was so good-looking, his cheeks and nose pink from the cold, his eyelashes damp from his sobbing. 

"He was murdered. By a Death Eater." 

Hermione froze. "Why?" she spat out. 

"You know why. He was an Auror." 

"Why hadn't anyone told me that a Death Eater killed him?" 

"I don't know." Hermione felt Harry wrap his arms around her. She sighed and gently pushed him away. Harry gazed at her. 

"Harry, this doesn't feel right," Hermione told him. Harry's lips twitched at the corners. 

"You- you have a boyfriend, don't you?" 

"I do. We met in Australia. His name is Travis, and he's also a wizard. He's moved here, to England, and...I love him, Harry." 

"You love him," Harry repeated. "That's alright." 

"But...I love you, Harry," Hermione whispered. 

"It's alright, Hermione, it's alright." Harry began to walk away. 

_So take your lessons hard and stay with him_   
_When your car crash comes, don't be mislead_   
_Convince yourself that everything is alright_   
_'Cos it already is_   
_'Cos it already is_   


"It's not alright! It's not, Harry! I can't love you both! I...think I want to be with you!" Hermione yelled after him. He continued to walk, so she ran to catch up. She grabbed his arm and stopped him. "You and I were meant to be together. I made a mistake! I was younger then! I know what I want now!" 

"You want me. But you need Travis." Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest. 

_So take your lessons hard and stay with him_   
_When your car crash comes, don't be mislead_   
_Convince yourself that everything is alright_   
_'Cos it already is_   
_Yeah, it already is_

"I want you. But I need...I need..." Hermione gave up and flopped to the ground. "We need Ron." 

Harry nodded. "We really need Ron," he agreed. 

"And he's dead." Hermione picked at her shoelaces. Her black boots were covered in dirt. _She_ was covered in dirt. 

"Dead. Gone. It's hard to believe." Harry picked her up and set her on her feet. He had become stronger and more muscular than he had been when Hermione last saw him. 

"But, it's as if this isn't happening. Why? Tell me that, Harry, won't you? And why can't I be with you?" 

"Merlin, Hermione! Isn't it obvious? You and Travis love each other and you probably make a better couple than you and I would ever make. I love you too, Hermione, but you know it won't work out. You need a lot of attention, and I can't give it to you. I'm too busy with my career in Quidditch. Don't worry, we'll stay in touch. I promise." Harry gave her a friendly peck on the cheek. Hermione peered at him suspiciously. 

"This doesn't bother you at all? I always assumed you were the jealous type..." This caused Harry to smile. He even began to laugh. 

"It doesn't bother me!" he assured her. "I've grown up, dear. Trust me. Stay with Travis...please. And tell him Harry wants him to take good care of you," 

Hermione took one last glance at Harry. The boy she had loved for many years. He had fallen out of her reach. Slipped through her fingers. She'd let him go. But that was alright. 

_So take him home_   
_So take him home_   
_So take him home_

_Take him, Take him home_   
_Take him, Take him home..._   
  
  


_A/N: But was it really alright?_   
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
